Seduction by Amy?
by writergirl89
Summary: Amy finds herself in a position she never thought she'd find herself in... and learns a few things. Some M worthy material.


**Title:** Seduction by… Amy?

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** M (oh, smuckkity smut smut and also language)

**POV:** Third-Person (mostly speaking for Amy, though)

**Pairing:** Amy/Jake (or Santiago/Peralta if that's more your jam)

**Summary:** Amy Santiago finds herself in, at least, the surprising situation she could have ever dreamed to be in: Trying to think up schemes to get her partner, Jake Peralta, into bed. A scheme she'd hoped would likely go down smoothly and with ease… Only to have said target make things more complicated and for her things to become a lot more charged than she bargained for.

**Author's Note:** Hello! New to the B99 fandom and wanted to contribute something of my own to the archive. I've been loving this show from the beginning, I'm pleased to say and have especially been leaning toward these two since the pilot because, duh! I don't even know what's up because this would be the THIRD pair I covet on this particular Tuesday Night line-up (New Girl's Nick & Jess along with Mindy Project's Mindy & Danny were the first two) so, thanks, Michael Schur and Dan Goor, thanks a lot.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of, nor am associated with anything having to do with Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Scout's Honor.

...

There's really not a lot of explaination as to how the whole thing appears.

Amy really can't account for it.

Not at all.

Okay, alright. _Maybe_ she can.

It all starts with a stakeout. A stakeout that, on paper, would seem a whole lot easier than normal. A few big time drug dealers, no big. But, no. It doesn't exactly go as planned. Because the stakeout devolves into a shootout. Boyle and Rosa are back-up and thing are _difficult_. They're outnumbered nine to four and before they could go down, more back-up arrives and after that everything is a blur and all Amy can think about how close they all were- How close she- How close Jake was to-

This is what she signed up for. This is the job. This is her lot in life now.

But, she can't handle it right then and excuses herself from the ambulances where everyone sits - unharmed, regardless - and barely makes it to she and Peralta's unmarked vehicle and over to the side where no one can see her, dry heaving and panting, as her _wonderfully_ inconvenient anxiety starts kicking it up a notch inside her body and she has no idea how long she's there, huddled and trembling, until she _feels_ him there, running a hand down her back, wrapping an arm around her and she resists nothing as he turns her and buries her face into his chest and righting her initially stiff frame into his arms.

And before she can even begin to fathom or understand what's happening, she _melts_. Her whole body unfurls and curls into his and her eyes slip shut and she's not... panicking anymore. Fingers grip his leather jacket and this close - her nose literally _right_ _there_ next to his pulse - she can smell his cologne (_citrus with a bit of musk_) and _equally_ appealing aftershave, feel his build right through his clothes, his hot breath on her neck.

She feel... _different_ from before. She feels_ good_ and _safe_ and _warm_. Here with Jake.

And she's not sure if that night _knocks_ something off-kilter inside her or if this is just copious amounts of stifled attraction coming to the surface or even a stupid, harebrained crush or whatever but, all she knows is that she _can't_ get him out of her head after that night.

They have, of all things, personal days after the whole fiasco and like, it's only three days which is nothing but, it really is because all she can do is be home, or go to the grocery store, or call her mother or have her department mandated psychologist visits.

And yeah, okay, these things may not seem at all similar but, they_ all_ involve her thinking about Jake.

Yeah, it gets that bad. She could be sharing with her therapist or god please, having a conversation with her mother and her mind would drift off which is soo much worse with Dr. Schwartz because the old bat has to ask about Jake because they're partners and he was there and _ugh_.

_"Now, Miss Santiago, how would you define your partnership with Jacob Peralta?"_

_"He's wonderful."_ Is her automatic, cringeworthy, completely unsarcastic reply before she quickly realizes herself. _"Na- I mean, he's good- he's a great- he's a fine man-"_

_"He's physically attractive, you mean?"_

_"Yes! That's it. No, wait. I mean, he is but, not-"_

_"Is a good partner to you or not, Miss Santiago?"_

_"Yes, he is. He is a very good partner." _Is her only coherent reply that afternoon.

And see, here's the thing. Before this, she's always been used to talking about Jake like he's someone needing _improvement_ or could be_ this_ or _that_ or _yes, he could be more_ _attractive if he was less immature_ or _yeah, it'd be nicer working with him if he wasn't such a screw up_ or _no, I could never see him that way because he's too much to take_.

Now, with these therapy sessions and having all that time to herself, it's _yes, he is attractive_ and _yes, it is nice working with him_ and _of course, there's a possibly I might be_ _attracted to him._

It's all so odd and weird and honest and she's actually pretty freaked about what could occur when she has to go back to work and when the day does come, she's relieved that he's not being out of character and arriving before her and takes a seat at her desk.

Her mind goes to him, of course.

She gets so lost in thought that she literally jumps when a coffee is jabbed in her face and a familiar voice starts speaking. "Santiago."

Her head whips up and yeah, there he is. Standing over with a smirk and a glint in his eye. And he's right there. Tangible and real and after just a few days of not seeing but, thinking about him _all the time_, it knocks something loose in her brain and all she can do for a moment is stare at him.

"Jake." Uh-oh. She really doesn't mean to sound that breathless.

That right there earns her a_ funny_ look from the man standing over her with, she could safely assume, is a to-go cup of her favorite brew that only he ever seems to remember with the just right amount of sugar and milk and also carrying the tastiest breakfast burritos she could ever have in life in that greasy, knowable brown paper bag she recognizes all _to_ well.

The Captain, to her immense relief, calls them both to his office then and she avoids her partner's eye the whole way there.

...

She spends the rest of the day in the storage room.

You know, because she's mature and brave.

Like a grown woman.

...

She doesn't even realize that her final solution to this is to seduce him until she's in her shower the next morning, finally using her brand new shampoo and conditioner and actually thinking of whether or not she should wear her hair up or down and considers Jake's past reactions to either or.

She remembers his ability to wisecrack being significantly lower for the latter so, she wears it down, puts on her most flattering blouse, spritzes perfume on and heads out.

He acts much the same as he always does that morning, although she could feel him peaking at her when he thinks she's not looking and she smiles into the file she's really trying to read even though she's feeling triumphant and _good_ about herself.

_Bingo._

She even treads the waters even more by walking over when he says he has something though she could easily _ask_ for the damn thing to look at, instead going over to his side to lean over his shoulder, close as she can before busying herself with the information at hand.

The sharp exhale next to her says she has most of his attention now. "You smell like mangos."

She tries acting nonchalant but, is not sure she succeeds entirely. "What?"

"Mangos. You smell like mangos. Is that new?"

"Mmm." She hums, giving him a side-eye. "Maybe."

She meets his eye then, the heat there making her heart rap against her chest and her mouth to go dry and it is ridiculous how that kind of look now can make her react this way and she wonders exactly how long this is gonna go on.

That and she can smell his_ freakin'_ cologne again and even as she _tries_ acting like it's _no_ big deal, it totally is and her knees are weakening and yeah, she's screwed.

She doesn't wanna say she runs away from him then _but_...

...

...She does. She really does. And it kinda goes that way for the next two weeks.

They work together, okay? They take on cases like before and banter back and forth, although, it's more him saying funny, stupid things and her being a lot more aggressively crabby with him than ever before and she has no idea why it makes him more attractive but, he won't fight back and doesn't insult her, even in that harmless, still snappy, Peralta manner in which he treats everything else and that does something bad to her. Like bad, bad. Like it really turns her on that he's being nicer than normal or that the incident is making him less of a jerk or whatever but, she wants him and has no idea if any of this is a good thing or not and it's not like she's actively avoiding him otherwise (you know, aside from saying no to drinks after work with everyone if he's gonna be there or internally freaking out if he buys her lunch or has one of his moments where he's _uncharacteristically_ sweet).

But, she's careful. That's the point of caution. If she's careful, things will be _fine_.

If she doesn't give herself away, nothing will happen.

"What's all this?" She asks in befuddlement as he stands in the doorway of her apartment, bags of food in his hands, on a particularly sunny Sunday afternoon, grin wide and dark eyes sparkling and she notes, dressed in casual flannel and jeans, his hair looking just the right side of attractively dischevelled.

"Late breakfast!" He exclaims, shaking the bags in her face, enthusiasm cutting through the air.

_There's that feeling again_. She thinks as she looks him over. There's that fluttering in her belly that she's had to deal with for the past few weeks.

She thinks she probably shouldn't let him in but, it's their day off and they'd be _alone_, in her apartment, and she's only wearing a flimsy robe over pajama short shorts and a tank top and given the appreciative once-over he sends her way, she has a feeling he can basically _see_ how little she's wearing and she thinks this could be_ it_, the chance to see if she can _fuck_ him out of her brain.

So, she lets him in.

And before she knows it, she's taking out the _nicer_ china her mom forced on her when she moved from home and jangling utencils - which he actually helps her with, by the way, like he most of the stuff from her hands and carries it for her, which, _yeah_, it's hot because _god_, she's weak - and watches her partner/almost friend/ effortlessly take it all to her coffee table and she must be really far gone because all she can do is watch the muscles of his back move under his shirt and stop breathing entirely until he's finished and waves her over.

They eat in comfortable silence after deciding on a movie to watch - she notes that it's _Training Day_ and he barely argues with her when she suggests it, funny enough - and she just barely watches it, instead her attention dividing from Denzel Washington to the man next to her and she catches him wincing during one such perusal. "You okay?"

He starts rotating his shoulder, reaching a hand around to squeeze it. "My shoulder. I think I got a knot."

She stares at him, an idea forming in her head. A probably bad idea but, well. "I could uh..." _Go, girl. Go._ "...give you a massage... if you want." She adds when he looks at her in surprise and... _interest_, maybe?

There's moment here, she's _sure_ of it, when they're staring at each other now. A moment that's similar to ones they've had in the past. Moments she'd been able to ignore because she can be just as stubborn as she pleases and dammit, if she's ever gonna admit to being attracted to _Jake Peralta_, of all people, never mind sharing a moment that could mean_ so_ much more.

Like now.

She's aware, alright? She's aware that if something happens, it could change everything. For better or for worse, it could_ change_ things. They're partners and she has to keep that in mind if she's gonna make any type of move to-

"Okay." Any kind of forethought seems to become a whisper of _anything_ because of the way he's looking at her right then.

It takes some maneuvering but, before she knows it she's behind him and lightly touches the shoulder he extends her way. "Here?"

"Yeah." When she touches him, wounding her thumb onto the muscle as best she can, he deflates completely and sags into her. "Ah, yes. That's it."

She chuckles lightly because if they were being wire-tapped right now, the things that people would imagine with the line of communication going between the two of them at that moment.

_And they wouldn't be far off._ She thinks as she brings herself closer to him, her breasts boldly pressing onto his back, his whole body almost between her legs as she shifts, knowing he feels it as he stiffens anew, a sharp exhale cutting into the air nearly quiet air. "Amy..."

"Hmm?" She hums she presses her lips to the back of his neck, lips trailing upward to his ear. Tongue licking a slow trail over the shell before snagging the lobe with her teeth tightly then, letting it go completely.

"What are you doing?" The clear confusion in his voice dissolves into a deeper, husky tone as she gets to work, lips going over his cheek and down onto his jaw, before she turns his face towards hers and is right where she wants to be.

Kissing Jake Peralta.

Which is so much better than her mind could ever conjure up.

His lips are strong and soft. And despite the fact that he's probably_ really_ caught off guard, he has _no_ problem getting into the business as their tongues meet almost immediately and encourages her as she crawls into his lap, ridding her of her robe, his hands going to her hips as she cants them downward, hands on his strong shoulders, his own hands mapping out her frame, pawing over her ribs, her waist, and over her ass.

She scours him with her nails through his flannel shirt and when she bites his lip, there's movement, a change in equilibrium and suddenly there's a thump and her head is throbbing mildly and she realizes she's now on her back and on the floor of her living room, Jake's longer frame now covering her own.

The move momentarily knocks the wind out of her and before she can think to find air again. much less coherently _think_ at all, he's back again, mouth covering hers, hungry, insistent, and more impassioned than before, hands all over her body as his lips trail over her neck, the neck of her top suddenly to low-cut, every inch of bare skin burning as he kisses it and then somewhat cool as a strap of the tank is moved and a breast is exposed before his mouth - that big, wise-cracking, smugly grinning mouth - is there, drawing the flesh in with his tongue, teeth biting the nipple lightly as he laps at her and she gasps feebly at the sensation, feeling it. _All_ of it.

_"Ah!"_ She arches and moans under him when one of his hands successfully untie the band of her sleep shorts and crawl underneath to meet her wet heat, caressing her with a maddening touch before one _long_, clever finger slides_ right_ inside her. _"Yesss!"_

She feels that sound. The growl he makes in the back of his throat when he adds another finger, straight and smooth going in and slightly crooked going out, her skin on fire as she endures and reacts to his touch. His mouth at her breast. His fingers stroking her.

_"J-Jake..."_ Her vision is starting to blur, fuzzing at the edges, and she knows she's _right there_ if he could only-

Her phone goes off.

Her. Fucking. Phone. Goes. Off.

And suddenly, he's gone and off her and she nearly whimpers at the loss of him, at the loss of his _heat_, and the expression on his face when he looks at her from across her carpet now, makes her feel more naked than she actually is and she cuts the contact off as she shakily adjusts her strap, body thrumming and unfinished, reaching for her phone, swearing internally as she sees her mother's face blaring at her from the screen.

"I have to- I need to take this." She lets herself look at him than, hoping the confusion and apology in her voice is clear, hoping he understands.

If he does get it, he definitely doesn't show it and she watches as he gets up, clothes rumpled and hair a mess, grabs at his jacket and heads for her door, backing into it with a wild, wide-eyed look on his face, his voice husky and run ragged. "Yeah, I'll just- I'm gonna, yeah-"

"Jake?" She knows they may be for the best but, it doesn't stop her from wanting him back. "No-"

"I have to-" He points behind him as he turns to leave.

"Jake, wait-"

But, he's already gone. Door slamming behind him and she hears him cursing under his breath and footsteps start to leave.

"Goddammit." Her head thumps onto her knees, a pained sound escaping her throat.

...

She doesn't see him again until the next day, at work.

And it is... interesting.

He's there before her and when she walks in at 7:00 and sees a familiar to-go mug sitting on her files, a part of her wants to die and even more so when he says nothing and just keeps hanging his head.

And it doesn't get any better after that.

They avoid each other's eye all morning and when Holt calls them into his office, they stand next to each other stiffly and their body language might as give it all away, swaying towards each other but, pulling back at the slightest of contact and maybe for the first time, Amy now knows what's like to be painfully aware of someone like this and be unable to do something about it.

It's excruciating.

And words aren't any better because her gratitude for her morning coffee goes by the way side and he keeps sending her weird glances during their drive.

Everything comes to a head, though.

Later and again, at her apartment.

She's in the middle of making herself dinner when she hears a knock at her door and who else could knock when she has a doorbell-

"Jake." She almost jumps a bit as he just steps into her apartment, backing up into her personal space. "Jake, what are you-"

And then he's kissing her and backing her into a wall and as she surrenders to his hands and lips once again, she thinks, it worked. _Success!_

And hours later, is when she finally realizes that Jake Peralta is most definitely worth his weight in words and _other areas_.

And that she, Amy Santiago, might have been as subtle as she maybe wanted to be.

...

**A/N: More where that came from. Hope you enjoyed! And that this might give you the courage to go ahead and write some sweet lemons for these two. ;)**

**Prompt: Wrote this because the idea of Amy trying to covertly seduce Jake was to good to pass up. Maybe you oughta give it a try! Or maybe write the reverse?**


End file.
